


Bright-Eyed and Bushy Tailed

by akaStoryteller



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaStoryteller/pseuds/akaStoryteller
Summary: Really with the way his life is, Malcolm finds caffeine to be his nearest and dearest friend.
Kudos: 28





	Bright-Eyed and Bushy Tailed

Malcolm Bright stood in line at the New Brew Coffee Shop, the happin' hotspot for the java-enamored near his loft. It was early yet so the line was happily short and only a few of the sofas, chairs, and tables were occupied. That, of course, would change soon as more people filed in to start their days with jolts of caffeine. Just as he was looking forward to doing if the line would ever move. Malcolm grimaced as he listened to the customer currently at the register—a middle-aged woman with a perfect helmet of red hair—directed a series of patronizing questions and demands at the barista.

Finally, the woman moved along to the pick-up counter to grab her vaunted half-caf-extra foam-micro pump of caramel coffee. Malcolm edged forward eagerly, happy to now be second in line then he bit back a groan when the smarmy guy in front of him launched into his own micro-aggressive spiel. After a few seconds, the criminal psychologist affected a fake sneeze launching himself forward just enough to jostle the man in front of him and break his train of thought.

When the guy turned around, mouth open in mid-word, Malcolm half-stepped back, straightened, and threw up his hands. "Sorry! Sorry! Allergies, you know. They just get the better of you sometimes." He reached forward as if to brush sneezy remnants off the guy's lapel, hiding a grin when the man reared back, away from his touch.

Grumbling, Mr. Smarm turned back to the counter and quickly ordered a plain black coffee before hurrying away as if the plague itself was stalking him. His over-the-shoulder glare at Malcolm as he stormed out of the coffee shop could have melted steel.

Malcolm stepped forward and smiled at the kind-eyed young barista he'd befriended on his morning visits. "Good morning, Tom. Boy, I guess some people are a little grouchy today."

Tom swallowed a snicker. "Hey, Malcolm. Yeah, I guess they are. The usual?" Tom queried, already reaching for the extra-large cup.

"Of course. Whatever you have that has the most caffeine in it."

Tom nodded knowingly. "Today that would be our Amber to Umber Firebomb. 928 mg per cup. Not as strong as yesterday's Golden Minefield but close."

"Well, that should do the trick then today. That Golden Minefield was spectacular."

Tom handed Malcolm his coffee. "You gonna be back for your second or third round later today? I don't have class this afternoon, and I had a couple of questions about that criminal psych book you lent me."

"I will be unless I get caught up in murder and mayhem with the police department."

"Great! I'm working a double so I'll be here," Tom paused to start ringing up Malcolm's order. "Anything else?"

The psychologist eyed the glass pastry case to his left. "I don't know—should I make nice and take some muffins down to the police station?"

Tom was just about to answer when Malcolm's phone rang. "Hey, Gil, what's up?"

"Malcolm, we need you down at the Woolworth Building—57th floor."

"Got it. I'm on my way." Malcolm shoved his phone back in his pocket and tossed a $20 on the counter next to the cash register. "Well, there's that murder and mayhem I was talking about. I guess I'll have to make nice with them some other day." He waved off the change Tom was counting out, letting the barista keep it as a tip. "I'll try to get back later to answer those questions for you."

With that, Malcolm headed for the door, making sure he had his cup of caffeine in a firm grip. Something told him he was going to need every drop and then some to get him through this day and well into the night.

**_FIN_ **


End file.
